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As a tree leans on its leaves

Waking up
Next to you,
Is the most beautiful
Part of the day.
As I hold
You little palm
With my
Rough with age hands
They hide within them
Just as you hide
Your being in me
When I come back
From cities far away,
Just as you some years back
You were hidden
In the two fair palms
Which cupped
My weary palms
With distinct
cigarette marks on them
On an October day
At the Coffee house
In a sleepy town.
I hold those tiny hands
Of you
Adorned by
A faux watch shaped
Like a butterfly,
That is so like your soul
Ready to scout all the flowers of this world,
And smile-
As a tree
Leans on its leave
For its very existence.
- 24-02-2014 - A Sunday Morning Blessed by you


Comments

Rick Watson said…
I saw your post from Google + and hopped over to check out your blog. I blog too and would love to have you check mine out too.
Rick
Deb Fein said…
YOur blog is designed beautifully. I also love the visual imagery you put into a poignant love poem!
Saket Suryesh said…
Thanks Rick for dropping by. Hope you liked the blog. Do share your blog details, will sure visit.
Saket Suryesh said…
Thanks Deb. things which come out impromptu are usually the most beautiful one, if not for the world, at least for the one for whom it is written. So encouraging for you to have taken time to visit.

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